July 28, 2014

To Saying "Yes"

A little over a year and a half ago Brian came home with a great proposition of buying a baseball collection off one of his coworkers. His coworker needed to pay off a debt and was supposedly letting his collection go for a steal. At the time we were living in a one bedroom apartment, Brian was on his third job in two years and pretty intensely applying for any and every other job he could find. We had Rori, one car, and the baseball collection about equaled the number in our savings account. We weren't really the ideal candidate to make the purchase.

But we bought them anyway.

Brian was sure he could sell them off and double our money; and I had no clue about anything baseball. But Brian really wanted this. And although he naturally tends to err on the side of being overly-enthusiastic and I tend to err on the side of being overly-cynical, I knew he needed a win in life - and so I said yes.

It wasn't really about the money.

It was about seeing a side of my husband I hadn't seen in such a long time. It was about letting that life creep back into his weary eyes. It was about letting him go all out for something.

Win or lose - I cared. We couldn't really afford the loss. But for some reason a foolish wisdom was with me that day, and I told him to go for it. I didn't want to be the sensible wife who slowly killed her dreamer of a husband.

So we bought them all.

And this week, breaking even, Brian sold the very last baseball from the collection. Just a year shy and a few thousand short from our original thoughts. We celebrated with a high-five.

And as ridiculous as that purchase was, it was important. It was important for me as a wife, and it was important for Brian to find that spark again.

And a year and a half later, our tables have turned. Brian's letting me take a chance at this whole Etsy gig. The price tag is lower, but still significant. The time and effort it takes is even more significant, but he still has my back. All I have to do is mention that something might be useful, and he has it ordered or bought - this conference included. (And I can't WAIT to go.)

He's not investing in my Etsy shop; he's investing in me. Investing in that spark that came back after piles of diapers and laundry had dulled it a bit. Investing in the person he wants to be living with 5 years down the road.

And I'm so, so thankful.

And it might be that "baseballs" and "Of Thistle and Thyme" become household terms for failure. But we'll let it be. Because one of these days we'll have a spark of an idea that really takes off. And saying yes to the millions of ideas gone wrong it what's going to get us to that one idea that goes right.

And in the mean time, we're becoming a team. A team that will be significantly stronger for those days ahead when we'll need it most.